Stupid
by wizardwalkergrizzly
Summary: Emma's foster mother notices some strange things happening when Emma is upset. ONESHOT


**I wrote another fanfic The Pure One (literally finished uploading it an hour ago) and after rereading Chapter Eleven "Emma Swan Part 2" I had the inspiration for this One Shot.**

**It can be read separately or as a companion!**

ONE-SHOT

Emma sat at the dining room table, legs swinging back and forth. Her slender fingers were curled around a blue crayon. Young, green eyes scanned over the picture beginning to slowly form before her. She heard the screen door creak open, and quickly folded up the drawing. Ms. Quinn didn't like it when she drew _that_ picture.

It was just a simple blue door. Nothing fancy, no visions of horror or anything.

It's just that Emma drew it constantly. She saw the door in her dreams, in her nightmares, casually in the background of whatever was going on.

She didn't understand where it led. So many times Emma had tried to go up to it and open it, only to be pulled out of the dream at the last second.

She tried to tell Ms. Quinn that the door was special, but adults never believed Emma, and she was always finding new reasons to lose hope. Ms. Quinn was exceptionally repressive.

She grabbed a second sheet of paper and quickly scribbled out a tree and some flowers.

"Emma!" Ms. Quinn called. It wasn't really a greeting, as much as it was her trying to figure out where she was so she could avoid her. "I'm in the dining room!" The small blonde called back.

So Ms. Quinn headed to the kitchen, and started on dinner.

Emma started putting the crayons back in the box. Ms. Quinn also thought that twelve years old was too old to be coloring. Emma thought Miss Quinn was stupid.

She bounded up the steps to put the crayons away, when her foster brother knocked her down on his way to the kitchen. She screamed out, "Ms. Quinn!"

Emma huffed her way down the steps, and the brunette woman made Devin apologize.

"Sorry, stupid."

He was fourteen, but he acted like he was six. Emma fumed and went to the fridge for a bottle of water.

A breeze flowed through the kitchen and made the curtains rustle. Ms. Quinn stared at the window, and didn't move. Emma turned to see her standing there, brows furrowed.

"Ms. Quinn?" Emma said. "Mom?" Devin asked.

She came out of her trance and smiled at the kids. "Sorry, I just thought I felt a breeze. But the window's closed so…never mind."

She went back to putting spaghetti in the pot, and Emma gave Devin a pointed look. He shrugged, grabbed the yogurt he was so intent on getting, and headed back up to his room.

A few weeks later, Devin had stolen Emma's baby blanket to use as a rag.

She was so mad, she screamed out, "That's not a rag! Idiot!" just before he pressed it down on hi spill. He looked at it and tossed it back. "Sorry, jeez. What's the big deal?"

Devin looked at his phone and Emma shut her eyes as she let out a loud moan of irritation. What they didn't see was the lights flickering on and off. Ms. Quinn had just walked in, and almost had a heart attack when she saw it. Emma stopped moaning and opened her eyes. The lights were back to normal.

Ms. Quinn watched as she grabbed the blanket before she stomped up to her room, and Devin finally looked up. He noticed her look of confusion.

"What?" he asked innocently.

It was the next day that Ms. Quinn had finally put it together.

Emma's social worker came to visit, and she was talking to Emma about the search for her real parents.

There were no leads.

Emma wanted to cry, but instead she just nodded and hopped off to the bathroom.

Ms. Quinn was about to give Jacqueline the full report when the power went off.

Ms. Quinn shot up to get a flashlight, but then the power came right back on. Emma came back downstairs, tear stains drying.

Oh my god, Ms. Quinn thought. Emma was the one doing it.

The breeze when Devin had pushed her, the lights when he took her blanket, and now the power when she was crying. She sat in front of the TV, and Ms. Quinn had to make a decision. Tell the real report, or get rid or the little firestarter.

So the next day Jacqueline came to pick Emma up, who just sighed and said it didn't matter. For Emma, it was just another person that didn't want her.

And maybe Ms. Quinn was crazy, but if she was right, Emma would be a liability. She'd adopt another, normal child.

Emma Swan would grow up alone, and she'd never find her family. That's what Ms. Quinn thought would be best.

Emma wasn't the only person that thought Ms. Quinn was stupid.


End file.
